I Placed My Heart In a Chipped Cup
by Stargategeek
Summary: Rumplestiltskin is captured by Prince Charming and his Kingdom and imprisoned in an enchanted prison to live out the remainder of his days. In exchange for information he makes one simple request.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_**~~~~Fairytale Land That Was~~~~**_

Rumplestiltskin watched as some of Prince James' soldiers escorted the distressed and pregnant Cinderella away from the garden.

He sat in his cage, flexing his powerless hands. It wasn't gone, just being held back, as his leg was still working perfectly.

Not like he cared, this was all part of the plan. He never intended to take the child, not in this life or the next, it was all part of his plan.

He smirked to himself. He just needed one more object to make it complete.

Prince James marched up to him with a deep scowl on his face.

"What have you done with Thomas?" he demanded again.

Rumplestiltskin shrugged.

"I've already told you," his fingers flared as he spoke. "He's been whisked away...and no amount of magic will bring him back."

"Is he dead?" growled James.

"Not in the least, just lost," shrugged Rumple.

"How do I get him unlost?" James fixed him with the sternest glare he could muster.

Rumplestiltskin leaned forward.

"If I tell you am I due for one favor?" he asked with an impish grin.

"You aren't in any position to make any of your twisted deals," the Prince smirked.

"On the contrary, poor little Cinderella can't afford me not to...if she ever wants to find her twue wove again," Rumple giggled slightly. "All prisoners are given one last request before you shut them away."

Prince James looked at him quizzically.

"I'll make you a deal of my own, you tell me your request and I'll decide if it's worth the effort," he said firmly.

"Ah ah ah, if you don't agree then I don't talk," Rumple negotiated.

"Well then I guess we're at an impasse, have fun in hell," Prince tapped the side of the carriage for it to move along.

"No, no, wait!" Rumple's clawed hand grabbed the cloak of the young prince. "I accept the terms of your deal."

Prince James smirked and shook the green hand.

"In my castle, there is an object I desire, you may have it tested by your fairies, or whatever but I assure you there are no curses, charms or enchantments on it. It resides in my main hall on a pedestal. It is easy to find. Please bring it to me...if just to see it."

Prince mulled over the imp's request.

"You just want to see it, how do I know you won't use it as a weapon? Or a distraction?" James scrutinized the eyes of the demon carefully.

"It's not anything of that kind, you'll see once you find it, with it...I'll go quietly, let you imprison me without any difficulty, with it buys my service," Rumple bowed his head reverently.

James pondered the words carefully.

"I'll go find this object, if i deem it dangerous I will not bring it to you, but if it is as you say you may have your request," James decided, reading a shred of honesty in the imps eyes.

"And then I will tell you all you wish to know about little prince Thomas," the imp giggled.

James nodded.

"Take him back to the castle, imprison him immediately," James marched over to his magnificent white steed. "Tell Snow I'll return soon. You two come with me. In case this one has left traps."

Rumple made a face of mock indignation.

"We'll return in a few days, make sure no one visits him until I return," ordered James.

His men nodded and muttered their "Yes sirs" before mounting their horses and getting into formation.

"Keep your promise Rumplestiltskin! Or so help me your precious object will be destroyed by my hand!" shouted James.

Rumple lifted his hands up innocently as the carriage began to move, carrying him away to his jail.

"I await your return," Rumple bowed his head again.

James turned his horse around.

"Where to sir?" asked one of the soldiers that stayed behind with him.

"To the Dark Castle," he sighed. "I have an object to find."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_**~~~~Dark Castle~~~~**_

Prince James approached the intimidating castle. It once was a magnificent structure with beautiful stone work, and beautiful gardens, now it looked cold and desolate, and just a bit sad.

James stared up at its harrowing gargoyles glaring down onto its oncoming intruders.

"Tread carefully, we have no idea what spells he could've cast on this place," warned James to his companions.

"What, like walking furniture or haunted rooms?" suggested one of the soldiers.

"It's Rumplestiltskin, you never know," he dismounted the horse and tied it to the front gate. "Leave the horses here."

They nodded and followed his lead, doing the same with their own horses.

James unsheathed his sword as they approached the haunted palace.

They arrived at the large front doors.

Cautiously he turned the handle and opened the large castle doors carefully, his sword poised in preparation for any nasty surprises. To his surprise the door swung open lazily and nothing shot out at them.

James looked to his comrades with shock written all over his face. They shrugged in response to his silent question.

"What kind of man leaves his castle unprotected?" asked one of them.

"One who is powerful enough to know that no one would be stupid enough to come after him," smirked James. "That, or someone who doesn't care."

That didn't necessarily make them feel any safer.

"What are we looking for my lord?" asked one of the soldiers.

"An object, he said it was in the main hall on a pedestal," answered Prince James. "Look cautiously, don't touch anything but that, I don't want any more curses or bad spells on us."

The men nodded and entered into the dark castle.

James could see it had once been a grand estate, with large windows and winding halls. Rich colored tapestries hung from the walls, but were now either torn or covered in a thick layer of dust. It was cold too, cold and lonely.

It made Prince James shiver.

He looked over to a set of double doors. He was drawn there for some reason, he sheathed his sword carefully, the sound echoing through the empty foyer.

There was a thick layer of dust on everything it seemed, like this place had been uninhabited for years.

He pushed the double doors open and coughed as the dust filled his lungs.

You'd think that a man with the power to spin straw into gold would be able to afford a maid.

He brushed the air to clear it of the dust mites.

The room had once been a grand dining room, with a large table in the center. There was probably a whole set of chairs once, now there were only two, and one was covered in more dust than the other.

There were grande windows lining the wall that probably overlooked the beautiful mountain range, but had since then been boarded up. This place wasn't haunted or scary as most believed, it was just dark and sad. Filled with ghosts of what was once happiness, James could sense it. Someone, Rumplestiltskin or otherwise was happy here once.

In the back corner was the famed spinning wheel, famed to have almost as much power as the man himself. Said to be made of the bones of children he'd eaten, or the wood of a cursed tree. It didn't look cursed, it looked like everything in this place, desolate.

Rumplestiltskin didn't fight his capture because his soul was already a prisoner in this bleak house. Haunted by memories. Had he always lived here, if not who did before him?

There was a large cabinet filled with once beautiful treasures, now they just looked grey. James fingered the small hook keeping the glass doors closed. These were treasures, and knick knacks, other people's treasures, the Dark One's trophies.

A pair of wooden puppets hung by the wall...another ghost?

Then he saw it. It was the only pedestal in the room but it had to be it.

James cautiously approached the object.

It was like nothing he had ever expected, yet in his heart he knew this was what the Dark One seeked, despite how baffling it was to consider. It was a tea cup, a chipped one at that.

He gently picked it up and cradled it in his palm.

What could a simple cup mean to such a powerful man?

He looked around, just to be sure.

He pulled out a cloth bag from his satchel and stuck the cup inside it, tying it securely.

A shudder rang through the stone walls and up his spine. That was enough of this place he decided. They could spend an eternity looking through every cranny of this place trying to put their finger on what made the Dark One tick, but frankly, the house lived and breathed on its own without the Dark One's presence, as James felt it best to leave before awakening some darker spirit.

He called his men to him and they left the castle in haste.

They mounted their horses quickly and turned them around to escape the sad castle and it's dark shadows.

James risked looking back at the once beautiful estate, a feeling twinging at him that there was more to this place and this imp than he really saw. The cup in his satchel held answers, and he was determined to get them.

~~~~Enchanted Forest Castle~~~~

The council sat around the table staring at the peculiar object in the center.

"This is what he requested?" asked Snow, biting her lip.

"I don't know what else it could be," Charming sighed, staring down at his beautiful bride.

"What would he want with a tea cup?" asked Red, her face screwed up in confusion. "I mean it's just a cup."

"That it is," agreed the Blue Fairy. "There isn't an ounce of magic in it."

"There must be, why else would he ask for it?" huffed Grumpy. "I say we smash it, give him something to grieve about."

"No," Charming shook his head. "This does have power, but not like we'd think. It has power over him. Think about it, he could have asked for anything and he asked for this. I found this in his main hall on a pedestal. He had a full cabinet of items much more valuable than this, yet they were all covered in cobwebs, tucked away as part of the collection. This was the one object not covered in dust."

They all pondered over his words.

"I believe Prince James is right," piped the Blue Fairy. "This cup holds power, but on Rumplestiltskin only."

"This will buy his cooperation," Charming reiterated.

"So what, we're just going to give it to him?" scoffed Grumpy.

"Certainly not," Snow shook her head. "It'll be like training a dog, he does something good he'll get to see it, otherwise we'll keep it securely locked away in the castle."

Charming nodded.

"He knows the situation he's in and this is the only thing he asked for, I say we let him see it, then we clearly lay out the rules," Charming picked up the cup and briskly turned to head out of the room.

"Charming wait!" called Snow. "I'll go with you."

He shook his head.

"This is something I have to do on my own, I need to talk to him by myself," he said softly to his love.

"Don't let him get to you," Snow whispered.

"I won't, not with this," he held up the cup. "He won't try anything as long as I have this."

Snow nodded and kissed him briefly.

He smirked and then kept walking.

The prison they had made was a few kilometers outside of the castle domain, underground, enchanted by fairies to make sure no power could be used inside. It had a gate at the mouth, guarded by two men and a third on the inside to keep intruders out. Beyond that about a mile underground were four more guards. Torches lined the walls all the way down getting fewer and far between as you went lower. There were no keys, no weapons, and no metal items or anything long or stringlike beyond a certain point.

Prince James walked past all the guards, depositing his sword with one and pulling the cloth bag out of his satchel that held the prized tea cup.

"How is he?" asked Prince James.

"Goes between periods of unending maniacal laughter to bouts of eery silence every few hours," sighed the head guard. "We've had to double check all his meals for twigs, almost killed a man the other day. No visitors aside from yourself. No one has spoken to him, I've made sure of that."

James nodded and patted the man on the shoulder.

"Good work," he muttered.

"Excuse me, your majesty, but what do you plan to do with that bag?" asked the soldier.

"A bargaining chip, don't worry, he won't be able to use it against you," smirked the Prince.

"If you say so," the soldier said politely.

James patted the man's shoulder again and continued his trek towards the dark menacing cell.

There was no light inside the cell, it barely looked like there was anyone in there.

Prince James squinted for any possible sign of life, was he hiding or had the imp managed to make himself invisible?

As he approached the cell, a shape began to emerge from the shadows. Bent low, with his back arched, sniffing the air like a predator.

His rotted grin curled into a foul smile as his eyes fell upon the Prince.

"You're back," the voice slithered up to James' ears. "Do you have what I requested?"

James stopped, a few meters from the cell and held up the bag.

"Show me," Rumplestiltskin hissed.

James huffed.

"Don't I even get a thank you," he joked as he pried open the knot on the bag.

"You will if you indeed brought me what I wanted," Rumplestiltskin wheezed.

James reached inside the bag and pulled out the cup.

He almost jumped as the bars of the cell clanged with the force of Rumple's weight upon it.

His hand was outstretched, clawing for it.

"Give it to me!" he snarled.

"This is what you asked for?" Prince James double checked.

"Yes!" hissed Rumple.

"Then it's your turn to honor your end of the bargain," James held the cup away from his prying fingers.

"Just...just let me hold it...I'll tell you anything you want!" Rumple clawed for it more furiously.

"No, you tell me what I want to know and then I'll think about it," James said firmly.

Rumplestiltskin sighed defeatedly.

"I've forgotten the question," he smirked.

"Prince Thomas. Where'd he go and how do I get him back?" James said clearly.

"Oh you can't get him back, it was in the original contract little Cinderella signed under the part that said that my payment for this act of kindness would be her firstborn child. Subsection B, stating that any attempts to trick yourself out of the deal would end in repossession of something of equal or higher value. She won't see her prince until that baby is delivered to me."

"You have no use for it!" cried James.

"Not now, not in this life...but maybe the next," Rumple giggled.

"What?" James cried. "What do you mean?"

Rumple shrugged coyly.

"All I know is that he's gone and until Ella honors our original bargain he will be kept as payment. That's how magic works!" he reached his hand out again. "Now may I..."

"No," James stepped back. "Not until you explain why you having this baby is so darn important?"

"It was part of the agreement," Rumple grinned.

"I don't believe that for a second,"

Prince James crossed his arms.

"I needed an apprentice, all my previous ones had been adults and all of them have tried to overpower me, I thought if I were to raise it then I might finally have a true partner and protege," the little imp batted his eyelids gently. "I'm not as evil as you'd think."

The Prince thought back to the lonely castle.

"You were lonely," he looked back to Rumplestiltskin.

"I don't get lonely," shrugged Rumple.

"I was at that castle, I felt how desolate it was," Prince James smirked, feeling like he was figuring out at least a bit of the puzzle that was the Dark One.

"Well one man's desolation is another man's humble abode," Rumple grinned.

"What is it about that place? What do you want with this cup? It isn't the most valuable of your collection, so what power does it have over you?"

"It has every power!" snarled Rumplestiltskin, lunging for the cup again. "It is to remind me of what I've thrown away!"

Prince James paused.

"You? You've lost something?"

"I've lost everything...everything that should've been important," Rumple continued to claw for his treasure.

"Who was she?" asked Prince James, recognizing the look on the imps face, it was a feeling he knew all too well.

"She is dead," snarled Rumplestiltskin. "And that is all I have left of her!"

Prince James still held back.

"Is that why you make your deals?" he asked, a small realization coming to light.

"People who are willing to trade everything for true love but aren't prepared for the consequences deserve what comes to them,"

growled the imp.

"What did you trade for your true love?" asked James.

"I didn't, I chose my power over her and threw her away, now give me my cup!" the creature barked and Prince James complied, handing him the cup, but not before tying a charmed rope around his wrists to prevent him from running away with it.

It was enough to satisfy the imp has he cradled the cup lovingly.

"Why a cup?" he asked, watching as the cup almost seemed to put the creature into some state of peace.

"She gave it to me," he stroked it gently. "Well...sort of."

He giggled one of his high-pitched shrills while continuing to caress the cup lovingly.

"Is it so strange Prince Charming? The Dark One, a creature who can spin straw into gold, has rooms of treasures and valuables, can conjure any sort of comfort with a snap of my fingers...and the thing I cherish most is a broken tea cup," he giggled slightly. "It is the only object in my possession I truly care about."

Prince James watched in awe at the monster and his chipped cup.

"She must have been some woman," he muttered without really thinking about it. But she had to be to affect someone like the Dark One in such a way.

"She was," he nodded, his eyes getting lost inside the reflection of the cup. Charming swore he saw something akin to remorse and longing inside the deep gold orbs. After a moment he tore his eyes away from the cup. "Take it!"

Prince James stepped up and removed the cup from his hands.

The rope fell away and Rumplestiltskin slithered back into the shadows.

"Is this why your castle is so dreary? Do you punish yourself for her death?"

Rumplestiltskin didn't answer.

"Rumplestiltskin!"

Out of nowhere he started to chuckle, and that chuckle began to break into a full blown maniacal laughter.

He was to get nothing else out of the imp today.

He sighed and stuck the cup back inside the cloth bag and tied it up securely.

He turned and began to march out.

There was a brief moment as he was walking out that he could swear the laughter began to sound like crying. But then again, it was the Dark One. He doubted if he even could cry.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_**~~~~Storybrooke~~~~**_

Mr. Gold was a powerful man. He walked around the town as if he owned the place. He was frightening and he knew it, in fact, he relished in it.

His humble pawnshop was something he took pride in. Every day he took great care to gently dust each and every object in his possession. It was all organized to his liking. There was a feeling that each object had its place for a reason, though it had no real logical order, and he could do nothing but comply. To others it was like every other pawnshop, hastily thrown together and loaded with crap. But to him, it was perfection. Not one thing in his pawnshop was broken, scarred or rusted. He polished every brass, shined every guitar, and restored every faded paint job. His handiwork was pristine, his repairs seamless. There weren't even fingerprints marring the glass display cases.

It was his haven.

His revenue came from his many business deals, and real estate investments. The pawnshop was not to make a paycheck. It was to escape. Very few people entered his shop, and they rarely stayed very long anyways, usually only coming in long enough to get what they seeked and then high tailing it out of there.

It was his perfect nostalgic antique heaven.

The only flawed item in his shop was a cup. A teacup. A simple little chipped teacup, sitting as the centerpiece in one of his displays.

Yes, it was chipped, and no it wasn't expensive but there was something about it he couldn't put his finger on. It had been there for as long as he could remember. There was a strange sort of wholeness in its marred state. Like it was meant to have that chip and it would be incomplete without it.

Mr. Gold found himself staring at that cup more often than not, pondering its existence and its strange enchantment over him. When cleaning the objects in the case he would find himself spending an extra few minutes just rolling that cup in his hands before coming back to his senses and putting it back in the display.

Today was no different as he shook his head, once again catching his eye wandering towards it.

"It's just a cup," he muttered to himself.

It had been distracting him all day for some reason. He normally was drawn to it but never this much in one day. Usually only once or twice his eye would wander but today it was all he could do not to look at it.

Gold let out a deep sigh and pushed his hand through his hair. The last few days he'd been feeling completely off, with everything. It started yesterday night in fact, and from that moment then to this moment now he had felt off kilter, as if there was something strange going on around him.

He looked up at the clock on the wall, then blinked. Was it really only just 10?

He checked his watch. It was.

He sighed and grabbed his cane from its perch and hobbled to the back room to grab his car keys from their hook and to flick the master light switch.

He was out of the store in 15 minutes and climbing into his gold Cadillac parked out in the private parking lot in the back.

It was time to collect the monthly rent at Granny's. It was always the first stop on his rounds. Terrorizing the old woman and her scantily clad granddaughter had almost become a well-enjoyed hobby of his, purely for his entertainment.

The drive to the B&B was short and rather uneventful.

He trudged up the walkway and peered through the window. He saw a flash of what looked like blonde hair walking past the glass. That certainly wasn't the saucy hooker-in-training he'd come to associate with this quaint B&B, in fact, he didn't recognize her at all.

She was new, and rather pretty, not that he cared, but there usual wasn't visitors to this sleepy little town, at least not for the twenty-eight or so years he remembered being here.

He walked in, barely making a sound, and gesturing to Ruby to keep his presence quiet as he watched this new woman request a room for the night.

"Now, what's the name?" the elderly woman asked with a hidden excitement.

"Swan, Emma Swan," she said.

"Emma," Gold muttered the voice ringing through his ears like a bell, and suddenly the floodgates had opened. He saw himself as a young lad, his mother teaching him at the spinning wheel. He saw a young girl with dark hair and blue eyes growing into a beautiful woman, kissing him, smiling at him, holding a baby that grew into a boy. He saw himself as a soldier taking out his own leg and then crawling home, shunned from the army as a coward. He saw himself raising that boy by himself. He saw that boy grow into a young man, stronger and braver than he ever was. He saw that boy jumping into a portal. He saw a knife with a name etched into its blade. He saw her; a beautiful woman with chocolate locks and stunning eyes. He saw a creature with golden eyes and green-gold skin screaming into a mirror. He saw a cup. Then he heard a name, like it was whispered into his ear, and everything came back to him in the breath of a second. Rumplestiltskin. "What a lovely name," he said to the stranger, smiling at her. She'd come at last, the child he had fantasized about on end while locked away in the darkness, waiting for the curse to be enacted.

Before he knew it Granny was holding a wad of cash out for him to take with a look that said she wanted him away from her establishment as soon as possible. On a normal day he would take his sweet time just to annoy her but at this moment he found a distinct urge to be back at his shop.

"It's all here," Granny said sternly.

"Yes, yes, of course it is, thank you," he took it quickly, wanting, on one hand to get to know the beautiful stranger a little bit more but on the other hand wanting to get back to his shop.

He took one last look at the blonde with a softening glint in his eye. This was his salvation.

"Enjoy your stay, Emma," the name rolled off his tongue like an old friend. He remembered the countless, endless utterings of it in the bleakness of his prison underneath the enchanted forest. The need to have this name so perfectly ingrained into his subconscious for this very reason, so that it would bring him back.

He left as casually as he could manage, not wanting to cause a stir. Young Ruby looked slightly shocked, probably thought he'd been flirting, or maybe she'd just never seen him so kind. That gave him a little twinge of self-satisfaction, or, at least the Gold side of him, for now he seemed to be two separate lives living in one conscious though he was slowly ceasing to care about the false one as the strong memories of his real identity continued to pour into his mind. He needed to find it and hold it.

He raced in his Cadillac back to the shop, a breath away from kicking his own door in.

His hands were shaking as he dug the display case key out of his pocket and struggled to fit it in the lock. He bit down on a cry of rage as his nervousness and excitement made it hard to focus his hands on their task.

Finally he managed to get the key in and pull the glass back. Like a drug addict getting his hit, the moment he touched the smooth china a wave of relief washed over him. His heart began beating the way it was supposed to. His mind calmed and his memories stilled and the whole world seemed to focus in. He cradled the chipped cup against his chest as he breathed in a deep sigh.

"I'm back," he muttered. "I'm back."

_**~~~~Fairy Tale Land, Rumplestilkskin's Prison~~~~**_

He was growing to rather enjoy the darkness inside his cell. It was soothing in its own way. He liked that no one could see him, and for long periods of time he would just sit in the darkness and reminisce or fantasize.

Sometimes he thought of Bae, and what he'd look like after all this time. He imagined his son being handsome and brave with his eyes and dark hair. If he stopped cutting it, it was probably past his shoulders by now. He used to cut his son's hair. Keeping it short kept it from being infested with lice and kept it out of his eyes. He imagined what he would say to his son after all this time. What he would tell him about his journey to find him? Belle?

That's when his mind would dwindle off of his boy to the beautiful princess who'd captured his heart forever. Truly, when she was around he had never been so happy in a long time. When she left he had never been so lost.

Even before she was gone forever, when he sent her away and gave her the option to run, his whole world felt hollow and gray. Now he welcomed it, it meant she would always be with him in that regard, whenever the silence set in and his mind would quiet down there she would be, dancing in the library of his thoughts. He liked to watch her; occasionally he would join her.

Then there were some days he dared not think at all, in case he lost his mind, granted, there might be very little left to salvage anyways.

Today though, he had only one thought on his mind, and it was a name. The name rolled around in his mouth and lathered on the tip of his tongue. Emma. Emma, Emma, Emma. Emilee, Emilaa, Emma. It almost made him giddy to the point of hysteria. A giggle erupting from his throat, echoing off the stone walls and reverberating back in his ears.

"Emma," he cackled. "Emma, Emma, Emma!"

He jumped up and hopped around.

"Emma! Emma!" he sang loudly. "Emma," he gestured as if he was greeting someone then quickly shifted on his feet to face where he'd been standing. "Emma," he curtsied to himself, erupting into another fit of giggles. "Emma, Emma." He was introducing himself to his imaginary ponderings of his savior.

"Quiet you!" barked one of the guards.

That stopped his jovial tea party right on its ass.

"Who said you were invited?" he sneered.

"Shush!" commanded the guard.

"Make me," he giggled, slithering up to the bars of the cell. "I'm only an imp," he teased. "Come closer...so I can scratch your eyes out!" he hissed, jumping on to the bars, sticking one spindly clawed hand through and swiping viciously for a few seconds before retreating and bursting into laughter.

The guard was about to yell at him once again.

"Don't," the head guard ordered. "You'll only provoke him further."

"Yes sir," said the guard.

"Yes sir," Rumplestiltskin mocked.

"I'll take your post, go watch the main entrance," ordered the head guard and the other one nodded and left, giving Rumplestiltskin a wary look as he left.

"Aww, we were only playing," Rumple batted his eyelashes.

The guard didn't say anything, just looked at him with his usual steely gaze.

"Though…you may be more fun," the imp's eyes matched the guards with an eerily playful and twisted gaze. "I know! Let's play a game!" he cackled. "I get three chances to guess your name, if I get it wrong you get a prize, but if I win…" Rumplestiltskin's grin twisted at the thought. "Well…then you'd owe me a favor."

"I don't play your games Dark One," the head guard said sternly. "I know better."

Rumple hacked and spat.

"You know squat!" he barked then descended into a bout of sing-songed giggles. "Is it Peter?"

The guard didn't answer.

"No, you'd make an awful Peter, it's not in your face. Hmm, let's see. Angular jaw, noble by birth, not born into wealth but your family was under the respect of good old Kind George…but then again, you were quick to join Charming's little coup. Francais?" Rumple laughed again. This was so entertaining for him. "Oh dear, I'm almost embarrassed I said that. Oh my, my, my, my, my. Broad shoulders, strong chin, you carry soldier's girth proudly. Look better in the uniform than I did! Ha! What could it be, what could it be? Mother died when you were young right? You haven't got a touch of femininity in you, I can tell. Father was a proud soldier like yourself. You're really like an open book…books…she liked books…niiahahah!" Rumple hopped around in a circle, clapping his hands together. He really liked this game. "Oh! I've got it! Yes, yes…I see it now…oh it's so obvious…your parents weren't very creative now were they…Mereck?"

The guard's whole body tensed, though he tried his best to hide it.

"Heheha! I win!" the imp cackled.

"You cheated," the guard said tensely.

"Now how am I supposed to do that? I just went over for a little stroll over to your dear old mum's and asked her," he giggled again.

The guard relaxed with a smirk.

"Isn't my mother dead?"

"Oh that…no, I just said that to give you a false sense of security," the imp smirked and clapped his hands. "What do I get for guessing right?"

"Nothing," the guard spun around and left the imp alone to his own cackling.

"Not even a cup of water?" the imp giggled. "It's a tad dry in here."

The guard stopped.

"All right deal maker, I'll give you a cup of water and you'll stay nice and quiet," the guard pulled out the enchanted rope from his satchel.

Rumple grinned and held out his wrists so that the rope could tie around them, preventing him from lashing out and hurting one of the guards.

The guard picked up a dingy looking bucket and a tin cup and dunked the cup inside the bucket. He placed the cup into Rumple's clawing hands.

"Good…now leave us," ordered Rumple. "I'd like to be alone…Mereck."

The guard looked at him for a long second before turning and leaving. Rumple giggled. Oh, the power of a name.

He held the cup in one palm of his hand and held the other over the water, just dabbing it with the claw of one finger. The water swirled to life and a face appeared in the reflection.

"Hello Queenie," he grinned. "What's this I hear about you enacting the Dark Curse. Be still my beating heart."

Regina glowered at him in her usual manner.

"You know why I called," her tone was tense, as always. "The curse…how do I get it back from Maleficent."

"Well, you shouldn't have traded it for that wimpy little sleeping curse in the first place," he sneered at her.

"How Rumple?" she barked.

"She won't give it to you willy-nilly, not even for a new unicorn. You gave her that curse and she intends for it to never be used," he looked deeply into the cup. "By the way…is that new lipstick?"

Regina scowled at him.

"What do you want Rumple? I want her weakness, so what do you want?" asked Regina tersely.

"I want something currently in the hands of our enemy…I want my cup," she sneered. "Before you go through with this curse that is what I want."

"You mean that dinky little chipped thing your pretty little maid dropped on the floor, oh Rumple, that is precious," Regina teased.

"It is worth more to me than you are," Rumple scowled.

"Now you are just being hurtful," Regina teased. "I'm surprised at you Rumple, I figured of all people you would be the least inclined to lose all that you have. Do you have nothing to say about me enacting the curse."

"I'm not your father," he shrugged. "Do what you want."

"Yes, not that you haven't thought about it once or twice," she smirked.

That had hit a nerve in him and he used all his control to reign the venom in.

"Bring me my cup," he said through gritted teeth. "Or you can fight Maleficent on your own. Deal?"

Regina scowled again.

"Deal."

He smirked and then tossed the cup out of his hands. That woman…infuriated him sometimes.

"Oh guards!" he called with his usual shrill tone. "I seem to be tied up here!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_**~~~~Fairytale Land That Was~~~~**_

There were days when Rumplestiltskin lost his mind.

Today was one of them.

Not that he could actually tell it was day…or night for that matter. He'd lost track of time long ago, it could've been years for all he knew.

Most days he spent amusing himself with the guards, or scratching aimlessly on the walls, he would wear his nails downs to the skin for hours, then he'd use blood. It would leak out the scratches in his fingers and outline and fill the small cracks he'd made in the stone, painting pictures all around him. Her eyes were the first thing he remembered. He'd spent a whole day scratching them perfectly into form. The eyes looked hollow without a face but he had worn all his nails down drawing them, so he waited until they grew back to a descent length then started to etch her face into the stone. He repeated the process until her likeness was perfectly stained onto the wall of stone. If he sat at the right angle she would catch the firelight and she would smile at him.

Rumple smiled back. He was crouched down, like an animal, positioning his head so his shadow fell beside her. He raised a hand up and his shadow caressed the side of her face. In the glow of the fire she seemed to smile at the touch and take the shadows hand and hold it there, stroking it's arm with feather light and loving touches. The shadow took on a life of it's own. Taking her hand and grasping it gently in his, he stood up to full height and pulled her into him to dance. It was a slow waltz, um pa pa, um pa pa, um pa pa. The orchestra rose over the dim sounds of the cave and the mice. It filled the caverns and crevices. Um pa pa, um pa pa, um pa pa. She laughed as the shadow danced her around the stone, twirling her gently to the music. Um pa pa, um pa pa, um pa pa. She smiled at the shadow and kissed his dark cheek, the music slowing as it came to an end, and they bowed to each other.

The fire flickered and the shadow and her had returned to their original states, with Rumple staring sadly off into space. He shouldn't have drawn her.

He heard an echo sounding off in the distance. A cry, and then a crunch, then silence.

He turned his head to the sound.

A figure was coming up the tunnel.

Rumple stepped up to the bars of his cell, his green hands coming up to wrap around the bars.

The footsteps got closer and closer, but the figure remained in the shadows.

"Hello?" he called out tentatively. "Who visits me?"

Suddenly she stepped out it was…a little girl?

"I come selling cookies," said the young thing, holding up her small basket.

Rumple's grin twisted into a devious smirk.

"Of course you are…Queenie," he giggled.

A black smoke enveloped the girl and she transformed into the Evil Queen. She glared at him with a deep frown.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked innocently.

"Little girls don't sell cookies to monsters, it's just not done," teased Rumple.

"Shame," Regina shrugged. "I do happen to have a few treats with me. She held up the basket. "Though eating them would be highly discouraged."

Rumple hopped and clapped his hand with a giddy laugh.

"Oh presents, I love presents!" he held his face up to the bars like a child. "What'd you bring me?"

"Some amenities," she smiled up at him. "The ink you asked for, which was harder to acquire than you had led on, some parchment, a pen, an apple…"

Rumple made a face.

"It's not cursed, dear Rumple, I just thought you might like something different to eat than worms," she shrugged innocently.

"Share it with me," he batted his eyelashes at her and she smirked.

"I'd be delighted," she lifted the apple out of the basket and took a good bite out of it. "Mmm crunchy."

She handed him the apple and he eyed her carefully before chomping down on the delicious fruit greedily.

He giggled and licked his fingers while she fished out her other gifts for him.

"And I thought you could use a descent libation," Regina held up a wineskin.

"You spoil me," he put a hand to his heart and giggled.

She put the basket down behind her and turned her back to him to pour him some of the wine.

When she turned around she held his cup in his hand and he smiled wildly.

"You know, in all my hurry to get this for you I could not find some descent wine glasses, so this will have to do."

He greedily clawed for the cup but she held it away.

"Ah, ah, ah, Rumple, fair's fair," she smiled evilly. "I have one last gift for you." She reached down into the basket and held up a scroll. "A curse. A curse only you know how to activate."

Rumple giggled and smiled, showing off his rotten teeth.

"I knew there was a catch," he sighed.

In a pinch a new scroll of parchment and a quill appeared in her hand.

"Give me the rest of the instructions for the curse and I will give you your precious cup," the queen bartered.

With a wide grin Rumple took the quill and gestured with his finger for Regina to turn around so he could use her back as a desk. With a quick hand, due to years of practice penning contracts, he had the steps written on the parchment. He dotted the last "I" and held it out for her.

Regina reached to grab it but he held it away.

"Ah, ah, ah!" he held out his free hand, palm up. "Fair's fair."

Regina smirked and gently handed the cup to him while grasping on to the parchment. They quickly traded each item, one for the other.

Rumple snatched his prize away with both hands and drank the liquid inside like a parched dog before cradling the thing like a lost treasure.

Regina scanned the instructions like they were holy scripture. Her eyes pouring over every letter carefully as if they were the most important words she'd ever read.

"This is perfect," she murmured.

"Why thank you, dearie," Rumple snickered.

"It's a shame we couldn't do this together," Regina looked over at him.

He giggled.

"I'm happy where I am," he smirked, stroking the cup.

"Are you?" she looked at him with a wary eye.

"One man's prison is another man's summer palace," he teased.

Regina laughed disbelievingly.

"I see…you allowed yourself to be captured…they have something you want…or need," Regina met his gaze. "What are you after?"

"Nothing, dearie, I just wanted a nice place to stay for when the curse comes," he chuckled.

"Or to be close to the Snow and Charming when the time came…what are you hiding Rumple? What are you seeing with that sight of yours?"

"Well, telling you wouldn't be any fun," Rumple shrugged.

"Tell me!" Regina barked.

"H0w much are you willing to pay for my foresight?" his voice went into a mocking tone.

Regina reached into the basket and held up the wineskin again.

Rumple laughed.

"Oh, you're going to have to do much better than that…it will take more than a drink for me to tell you your future," he teased. "Let me tell you, it's not worth it!"

He hopped and sung and giggled, still holding his cup securely against his chest.

"I do hope the lovely Maleficent is still living," he added. "I'd hate for her to miss this."

"I took care of her, don't worry, she is still very much alive," Regina couldn't help a smirk.

"Well…then you shouldn't be wasting any more time…off you go," he waved his fingers.

Regina frowned as the black smoke wafted around her and morphed her back into the little girl.

"Oh, by the way, dearie…if you could just…shift that torch over on the wall over there…just a little to the right…"

The girl went over to the torch and did so, standing on her tippy-toes.

"Little more…little more…that's it! Perfect!" Rumple giggled. "Aren't you just a sweet little thing?"

The girl frowned at him.

"Imp," she spat before picking up her basket and walking out leaving the creature to laugh at her back.

When she was gone he calmed down, holding his cup in his hands as well as the other gifts Regina had brought him. He had a plan in mind for each of them but he would get on that later.

He crouched down in the corner of his cell, his gaze becoming lost on her again.

"One step closer, dearie…one step closer," he muttered as he absently fingered the cup.

The torchlight flickered making it look like she winked at him and he smiled back.

Everything was going according to his plan.

_**~~~~Storybrooke~~~~**_

It was his most valuable object.

He had moved it from his shop to his home, into another glass case. He found himself every night, sitting in the dining room, polishing brass, and whistling. Being in proximity to it made every thing go away. It put him at peace.

It was her talisman. His cup. The one she chipped by accident. He'd begun using it for no apparent reason…he just liked it. It had personality…it reminded him of himself.

He remembered that one day when they'd had a tea party, her suggestion. She wanted to bring out one of the more fancier sets but he took his cup. She laughed and pressed her lips to the cup. "It's good enough for me," she'd said. He'd wanted to be that cup in that moment. She haunted his every thought, and to see her kissing his cup, looking straight into his eyes, unblinkingly. It had warmed a part of him that had long since grown cold and hard. Under her gaze he melted like a young lad…Bae would've loved her. She would've been a worthy mother to his boy. They could've searched for him together, reunited as a family, have someone in this bloody curse to talk to. But he'd thrown her away…just like he did his son…for what?

He looked over.

For his chipped cup?

He looked away again and continued polishing the brass candlesticks, carefully, methodically, like he did anything when he didn't want to think about all the painful memories in his life.

He sighed, putting the rag down.

It was almost Valentine's Day; that would be why his mind kept dwindling to her. Tomorrow he had an appointment with…him.

Even in his mind the thought was laced with venom. The idiot roamed around, forgetting he even had a daughter…or something like she died when she was younger…or whatever the bloody curse made up. Out of all the people he terrorized. The nuns, Regina, Granny and the Little Red Slut, he hated him the most. Moe French…the florist. The man responsible for the death of his beauty.

Rumple may have turned her away but he was the one who killed her, called her tainted, tortured her, broke her…dropped her like she had his cup.

The man wouldn't have his rent…he rarely ever did, and that would give him the satisfaction of making his life rather miserable, and just before V-Day. The florist holiday of the year, cutting off his funds, then he could evict him, turn him on the streets, make him beg like she had begged, make him suffer like she had suffered.

The thought made the corners of his mouth turn upwards. He was almost looking forward to it now.

He struggled to get up, his leg aching slightly from being in the same position so long.

He hobbled over to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. He used a normal mug, just a plain simple white one he'd bought from an IKEA. Nothing special. Not like his cup was.

He didn't care for any kind of fancy tea, just a simple black tea, with a warm aroma, the way she would've liked it, cream and a little lemon. It was a daily reminder of what she was like: a cup of tea; warm and welcoming; soothing and safe.

While the kettle boiled his eyes wandered back over to the cabinet where his treasure was. Where it will always be.

It took him a moment to realize the kettle was whistling, he always got so entranced in his memories…or his fantasies, he supposed. The house was large and colorful, like she would've liked it, but the furnishings were simple, inexpensive, like he would've liked it. The yard had flowers that he tended to, roses, like she'd have liked, with a well -maintained lawn, and a connection to the forest near where a stream, which he would've liked. The only magic here was the magic of his memories, which they both would've liked. He had three bedrooms upstairs. One with blue walls and one with yellow. The bedspreads and furnishings were for them, for the dream that one day they would be there, with him, together in this house. In the blue room he had fresh flowers, books, and the window overlooked the roses…she would've liked that. In the yellow room there was a bowl full of smooth round stones, perfect for skipping across the stream. It was simple and warm, and the window overlooked the forest…he would enjoy that.

Rumple's own room was simple, with burgundy walls and dark oak furniture. He rarely slept there. It reminded him of the Dark Castle a little bit too much. Not since Emma arrived has he really spent a night in there. He had memories of twenty-eight years waking up alone in that bed…he preferred waking up on the couch, his leg ached, his back creaked, and his neck always felt wrenched, but he'd see that cabinet, and what was inside that cabinet and he'd smile, the pain hardly a flicker in his mind.

Rumple fixed his tea and drank it quietly before grabbing is overcoat and briefcase and putting them on. Damn, February weather.

He pulled out his phone and texted his hire hand. Mr. French was one of the more difficult patrons, besides, he only wanted to focus on tormenting the fellow, and he needed someone to drive the truck.

He smirked; this was going to be fun. What a perfect way to spend Valentine's Eve.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_**~~~~Storybrooke, Sheriff's Office~~~~**_

Mr. Gold sat in the cell cradling his cup in his hands.

He'd almost lost it today, he couldn't believe how close he'd got. It meant everything to him and that…that woman knew it would cut him deeply. That's all she ever did was cut deep gaping gashes into his soul. Both her and her mother.

He shook his head; he didn't want to think about either of them at this moment. He was going to spend the rest of this miserable holiday thinking of her.

She would've loved Valentine's Day. The flowers, the chocolates, the cards, it would all be enchanting to her, and being with her would be good enough for him. He would've picked her roses out of his own garden early in the morning and set one for her on her pillow for when she woke up. The fresh flowery scent stirring her from sleep she would yawn and stretch, slipping on her fuzzy slippers and coming downstairs where he'd have her tea and breakfast warm and waiting with another rose, but he'd be nowhere to be seen. Another rose would be taped to the front door, with a note requesting her to meet him at his shop. She would dress in a beautiful, tasteful outfit with her hair done to perfection – even in the Dark Castle when she would spend all day scrubbing floors and cooking, not one hair was out of place. She would come down to his shop, that curious smile would be on her face. On the counter would be a book, with a card, her name scrawled across the front of it in his handwriting. The rest of the card would be blank save for a page number. She'd flip the book open and there would be an illustration of a rose and a note taped to the pages, enticing her into the back room. He wouldn't be there, oh no, that would make the game to easy. She would find yet another rose and an invitation to dinner found inside a box of chocolate covered cherries - those were his favorite so he just pretended those were hers too. The invitation would be for Le Poisson's at eight o'clock, and for her to dress formally. On the back would be a note telling her that she should look inside the trunk of his car. It would be parked in its space behind the shop. She'd pop the trunk and inside would be a wrapped present. She'd open it and her face would light up at the beautiful sapphire blue gown lying inside. She would wear that this evening. Underneath the dress are shoes and earrings to match. They would bring out the azure in her eyes.

"Hey Gold," barked Emma, snapping him out of his fantasy. "I've been calling you for like five minutes."

"I heard you…I just preferred ignoring you," he grumbled, his hands coming tighter over the cup.

"What's the china for?" teased Emma.

"It's mine," he growled protectively.

"I figured, but why do you have it?" she asked slowly and with just a hint of condescension.

"It was the stolen property taking from me by Mr. French that you didn't retrieve," he bit back impatiently.

"Hey, I got all your other stuff back, didn't I?" Emma cried indignantly.

"I don't care about all that other stuff, damn all that other stuff! I care about this!" he snarled.

"Yeesh," Emma mumbled. "I know a lot of people who hate Valentine's Day but you sir take the cake."

Gold sighed.

"I don't hate Valentine's Day, I don't even hate what it represents, I just…don't like it when my property is stolen from me," Gold clutched the cup in his hand more protectively.

"Dude, it's just a cup…it's even chipped, how much value can it possibly hold?" Emma shrugged.

"It's not just a cup. Stop saying that! It's not just a cup!" Gold barked. "Is it so hard for everyone in this puny town to fathom that not everything is about money to me?"

"Well, you do give off that impression," Emma teased.

"That's what they think, they think everything I do is motivated by greed, or by some monetary advancement. You know nothing!" he spat and shuffled to the furthest corner of the bed. "I've gained and lost more than any of you pathetic whiners. That's why I don't give any leniency in my deals, if something is worth keeping you fight for it, you can't throw it away and hope it comes back because it won't!"

Emma had a feeling he was talking about more than just his work policy.

"Who was she?" she asked.

She saw him tense, right in the shoulders.

"She is none of you business," he seethed.

"She has something to do with the fact that you tried to kill Moe French tonight," Emma said inquisitively. "You said it was his fault…what was his fault? What did he do to her?"

Gold shuffled more to the shadows, hiding his face.

"Gold!" Emma demanded more forcefully.

"May I have something to drink, Sheriff?" the softness in his voice took Emma by surprise. She was starting to feel like she was encroaching on to territory no one had dared tread before her and she didn't know if she should proceed. He was right, there was more to Mr. Gold than just a money-grubbing opportunist. Something about that cup was tearing a hole inside him and a part of him was leaking out, and as much as she wanted it to come out, she could see how much he was fighting to keep it all in. He was scared…or at least brought to the edge because of this cup.

"Sure," she muttered, finding her voice.

She grabbed a paper cup and filled it from the water cooler. She handed it to him through the bars. He did not turn to accept it, just sat and faced the wall, rolling his cup in his hands.

After a moment she sighed and set it down on the metal frame of the bed.

She turned to head back to her office.

"Thank you, Miss Swan," he said softly. The tone in his voice made her freeze, her heart clenching slightly at the sound of his gruff brogue, barely containing all the emotions going through him.

"Y-you're welcome," she said.

"You are…" he stopped. "You remind me of someone I knew once…in almost the exact situation…he'd be proud of you."

Emma blinked.

"Oh…ok, thank," she turned and headed to her office.

Gold closed his eyes at the sound of her door closing, moisture brimmed them but he choked them back.

She would've been proud of him for that. He went back into his mind at the elaborate fantasy he had created earlier and erased it all. He wouldn't need all of that. For them, Valentine's Day would be a special day, not for anything fancy. He would take the day off and sleep in with her, they'd cook brunch together and eat together. Then got out into the garden, choose the best rose from his selection and put it in a vase on the dining room table. All day, no one else, just them. That would be the perfect Valentine's Day. Just to have her back, that's all he'd need.

_A rose for my lady, haroo haroo…_

The tune mumbled in his brain, the old song sailors used to sing at taverns where Milah used to frequent to forget about him. He'd caught them singing it once when he'd gone to lovingly take her back home and nurse her back to sobriety, she was laughing and cavorting with a group of dingy sailors but there was this one fellow and his mate with this fiddle. His mate pulled the bow across the strings like it pained him. The man's voice was gruff from the alcohol, his other mates laughed their drunken encouragements. Rumple had been entranced, the lyrics pinging a chord inside him. He had memorized the tune to heart. His lyrics may have changed over the century but the haunting melody continued to roll around in his brain.

He only ever heard it when he thought of her.

_**~~~~FTL, The Dark Castle~~~~**_

Rumplestiltskin sat at his spinning wheel, humming to himself softly as the magic turned the twined straw into a long gold chain around his fingers.

A long time ago it was rage that fueled his magic, but nowadays he found himself sitting at the wheel and not being angry at all. His thoughts were filled with…her. The smile grew on his face. The wheel turned gently under his hand, his heart pumped slightly in his chest, and he would hum. Hours would go by and he'd barely realize how much gold he'd been spinning.

It was kind of funny.

Belle entered, his little housemaid…no that didn't seem appropriate any more…he had certainly stopped seeing her as his maid…sure she cleaned and maintained and brightened up this castle, but she was not a maid…this was her home as well…at least in his mind. She was the life and spirit of this castle, breathing sunshine and happiness into every room she walked into. No, she was not a maid…she was…

"I brought you tea," she announced.

Rumple grinned and stopped his spinning.

"Good…I was starting to get bored," he mumbled…he was far from bored, if anything he was perfectly content.

He hopped over his stool and met her at the table.

His cup was on the tray and he snatched it possessively, just catching the hint of a smile on Belle's face.

"Niieehehe," he giggled, hopping on to his chair.

"My, you're in a mood today," teased Belle. "Kill something this morning?"

Rumple pressed a hand to his chest and opened his mouth wide as if he was shocked that she'd ever suggest such a thing.

"My, my, my, don't you just have quite the sense of humor," he teased.

Belle chuckled and blushed, lowering her eyes slightly. He loved it when she did that.

"I'm sorry, you just aren't usually this cheery unless one of your deals came through, and from what I recall you haven't made any deals this past week, so I assumed you went hunting…hunting makes you giggly," she chuckled with the observation. "But since there's no elk carcass lying in the kitchen for me to skin and clean…you must be just in a good mood…it's nice to see," she filled his cup for him as she spoke.

"I am…thank you for noticing!" he said dramatically with his usual flare that made her laugh. He liked making her laugh.

"Is today a special day?" she asked.

"Does it have to be?" he leaned his face close to hers, trying to be intimidating but ultimately failing as she just batted her eyelashes at him.

"No, just asking," she shrugged, dumping a spoonful of sugar into his cup.

"Good," he said pointedly, turning back to his tea.

She poured in his milk and stirred gently, then pushed the cup over to him.

He clapped his hands in excitement. She laughed. She loved how goofy and childish he was sometimes.

"Though it does make me wonder," Belle scooted into the chair next to him.

"Wonder what, dearie?" Rumple teased.

"Well, if you don't mind me asking…when is your birthday?" Belle asked with genuine interest. "I figured…since I'll be staying here awhile I could…make something special for your birthday, a cake, or lamb stew, your favorite."

The gesture warmed his heart a little but it fell quickly.

Rumple's mother had died when he was young and his father had fled shortly after leaving him under the care of spinsters in the village, the only people who would take the son of a coward in.

He had celebrated Milah's birthday and Bae's, but he had no idea what day he was born on, not to mention what month. He knew his age, because he would count the years. The spinsters said when he was young that at the end of the Year End festival he was a year older, like the world, give or take, that was how he kept track, but there was never a celebration for him.

He looked down, not wanting her to see his eyes at the moment. Belle's smile faded slightly as he fingered his cup.

"No. I don't have a birthday," he muttered. "No matter, I have plenty of unbirthdays."

He sniggered and drank a sip of his tea.

"Have you never had a birthday party?" Belle gasped.

"Most people don't come to parties for monsters," Rumple kept his gaze low, his tone was casual but it was only a thin veil to the deep emotions swimming inside.

"Not even before, when you were…"

"Never!" Rumple barked.

"I…I'm sorry," Belle retreated, a tense silence cutting in between them.

Rumple felt bad for snapping at her.

"It…it's all right, you don't need to go through the trouble," he leaned over and patted her hand slightly. "It's just a number."

Belle met his gaze and smiled softly.

"I…I want to, Rumple…I mean, we're going to be stuck in this castle together for a long time...who else am I going to cook for?" she chuckled.

"When's your birthday?" Rumple teased.

"What? Are you going to bake me a cake?" she smirked at him.

"Maybe not…but maybe I'll get you some flowers…as a present," he shrugged.

"Roses," Belle said with a smile.

"What?" Rumple blinked.

"I like roses," Belle blushed slightly.

"Roses?" he muttered.

"Yes, a single rose would be all I need," she chuckled. "That or a book."

"You still haven't told me a date," he prodded, poking her arm with one of his jagged nails.

"Fine, its...the fourteenth day of the 2nd month," she sighed.

"Well that's in a few days time," cried Rumplestiltskin.

"You don't have to do anything fancy…I'd be happy enough just with the flower," she shrugged.

"So treat it like any normal day except with a rose?"

"Why not?"

Rumple mulled it over.

"Well…that sounds easy, niahahaha!" he giggled and finished off his tea.

Belle laughed again and took his cup from him, placing it on the tray.

"Even monsters have birthdays," she whispered to him before picking up the tray and waltzing out into the kitchen, humming softly as she went.

Rumple sat in his chair, feeling rather stunned by her statement.

She was an odd one, that Belle, always saying things to confuse him. Who was the spellcaster here anyway?

He shrugged and hopped off his chair. He decided he was going to go find a rosebush…he had some preparations he needed to see to and quickly.

_**~~~~A few days later~~~~**_

He hadn't seen her all day, which was unusual for him. Belle seemed to fill the castle wherever she was, so to not see her, hear her, or smell her, in any part of the castle for a full day was…disconcerting.

Rumple had spent most of the day to himself in the west wing tower, pretending to conduct spells and potions, should Belle come in with tea or something. She didn't…that was when he first noticed it.

At lunch time he moseyed down to the dining hall, his meal was already there, waiting for him, but no Belle. He had looked in the kitchen and it was empty. Now he was getting a little concerned, but he decided not to think much on it and returned to his tower to work on his preparations.

He had no rose for her because he had thought of something better, though he kept it in the back of his mind should the opportunity arise again.

Sitting on his desk was a meticulously wrapped present, about the size of a decent novel. He smiled to himself; she would love it. He had spent all of last night making sure it was ready for her so when she opened it her eyes would bulge right out of their sockets.

By early evening he was frightfully worried. He began searching the entire castle for his Belle.

A whistling, a shuffle, a hum, a scent, a swift dash of blue skirt, anything!

He burst into the dining hall and froze.

The room was decorated slightly, more than usual anyways, with colorful ribbon curled and dangling off of the windows and draped over the tops of the mantel at the fireplace and the chairs and even his cabinet. A present lay in the middle of the table, wrapped in red cloth with gold lace.

The door to the kitchen opened and Belle stepped out.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Poo!"

Rumple blinked with disbelief.

"I was hoping you wouldn't come down until supper…" she sighed coming up to him. "I wanted to surprise you."

"You…you did," Rumple mumbled. "What is this?"

"This…this is a party, our party," Belle beamed a brilliant smile in his direction. "I thought since you've never had a birthday before, I thought you could share mine," she fought a small blush. "Happy birthday Rumple."

Rumple swallowed dryly, unable to form words.

"I made your favorite, lamb stew. I've been in the back all day slaving over it, trying so hard not to let you notice it…I wanted it to be special."

"It…it is…" Rumple managed to say.

"And I actually think I found you something you'd actually like," she chuckled, gesturing over to the gift on the table. "But that's for later."

She took his hand and led him over to the table.

"First stew, then for dessert I made us a cake, we'll blow out the candles together," Belle sat him down as she skipped back to the servants entrance. "It'll be fun."

Rumple nodded dumbly. No one had ever done something so…sweet for him before. No one in his village had cared enough to give him a birthday, not even the spinsters or is own family. No one had ever wrapped a gift for him or decorated a room for him. He was visibly stunned by the gesture, even more stunned by the fact that she genuinely wanted to share this day with him.

Belle came in soon after with a pot of stew that smelt like heaven. There were fresh bread rolls and he conjured up a bottle of wine for the two of them to share. They ate and drank, and laughed, he'd never heard such a beautiful sound as Belle laughing.

After their meal Belle brought out a beautiful cake with three candles on top of it.

"One for you, one for me, and one for us," she'd explained.

He looked up at her with awe as she said those words. "Us." He liked the sound of that word.

Together they blew out the candles and he cut the cake into appropriate slices.

Three slices later they sat in front of the fireplace drinking tea, sated and happy.

"Will we do this every year?" Rumple asked, looking over at Belle.

Belle smiled at him.

"Of course," she chuckled. "Why wouldn't we?"

"No reason…just wondering," he fingered the chip in his cup. "I rather enjoyed celebrating with you."

Belle's smile grew slightly.

"I'm glad, I liked sharing it with you as well."

He distracted himself with his tea, trying not to get lost in her eyes…if her looked to long at her right now he would do something foolish.

"Speaking of which!" Belle exclaimed, springing up from the settee and running over to grab the gift she'd left out for him. "I think it's time you opened your present."

She skipped over to him and placed the gift in his lap.

"I'm pretty sure this is something you won't be able to conjure up with that magic of yours," she grinned smugly.

"What is it?" he looked at her curiously.

"Well, open it silly," she teased, coming to sit next to him…awfully close to him.

He fingered the golden ribbon tied on the top. It was almost too pretty to open, he just wanted to keep it, all wrapped up and perfect.

"It's not going to unwrap itself," she prodded.

"I will just…just let me enjoy it," he sighed, letting his handed slide over the gift's deep red covering.

With a slight tug the gold bow came free and Rumple gingerly peeled back the cloth to reveal the present inside. It was a box of…

"What is it?" Rumple propped the lid open. "Ashes?"

Belle laughed.

"No, silly, I made you tea," she took the box from him and lifted it up to his nose. "I found some rose briars at the far end of the castle's estate. I don't know how it was growing with this winter but I picked off one of the roses and decided to make you a rose tea, like my mother used to make."

The smell of the tea was…unique. It was aromatic and flowery with just a hint of sweetness at the end.

"You made me tea," he said in wonder.

"I couldn't think of any thing else, what do you get for the man who can conjure anything? But I've seen how much you favor that cup of yours lately and I thought, tea, not even the Dark One could say no to a bag of tea."

Rumple smirked slightly, staring up at her.

"It's perfect," he said earnestly.

Belle blushed slightly.

Rumple lifted a finger.

"I happen to have something for you too," he lifted a scraggly finger, before twirling his hand around in a languid circle, calling his neatly wrapped present to him.

The gift appeared in his hand and he gently placed it in her lap.

"Happy birthday, Belle," he muttered.

Belle beamed again, the firelight catching her eyes in such a way that they just seemed to dazzle brilliantly.

Without haste she tore the present open, not bothering to be as careful as he had been. He snickered at her child-like antics.

She gasped.

"A book!"

"Open it," he encouraged softly.

She excitedly opened the book to its dedication.

"To my darling love Juarhala…may the devil be cast out of you…" Belle looked up at him skeptically.

"You mean that's not you?" Rumple teased, Belle gave him a look. "Try opening it to the middle of the book."

Belle eyed him for a long second but her curiosity finally overcame her skepticism.

The book had been hollowed out and a golden key on a chain placed inside.

"A key?" Belle's eyes widened. "A key for what?"

Rumple smirked, taking the red cloth she had used to wrap his gift in and tying it over her eyes as a blindfold.

"Come with me," Rumple whispered, sending a shiver down her spine. "Do you trust me?"

Belle smiled.

"Of course," she whispered back.

He took her soft porcelain hands in his and magicked her to another part of the castle. She shivered at the sensation. They were in front of a set of large double doors. Rumple took the key from her hand and slipped it into the lock turning it slowly.

"Where are you taking me Rumple?" Belle said jokingly.

"Patience, Belle, patience," he said condescendingly.

She bit her lip to hold back a remark.

He pushed the doors open and grasped her hand again, leading her inside.

"Almost there," he giggled impishly.

"I swear Rumple, if you push me into the lake again I'll…"

"No, no, nothing like that," he shook his head, stopping her in the center of the room. "I'm going to take your blindfold off…but you have to keep your eyes closed till I tell you to open them."

Belle made a whining noise.

"Ah, ah, ah!" Rumple chastised, waggling his finger.

"Fine," Belle sighed.

Rumple snapped his fingers and music filled the room. Belle instantly smiled.

"Music…" she sighed.

Rumple circled behind her and gently undid the knot on her blindfold, letting it slip away.

"Keep them closed," he warned.

Belle impatiently tapped her foot.

"Just a second longer," he snapped his fingers again, filling the entire room with beautiful light.

Rumple smirked. Perfect.

"Alright, now."

Belle opened her eyes slowly. Her mouth dropped as she took in the sight before her.

"It's a library!" she cried.

Rumple hopped and giggled in triumph.

It was gorgeous. It had a tall domed roof with high windows and a magnificent mural covering the ceiling. The bookshelves went nearly all the way up, filled with books, a collection made over 300 years. Gold edging outlined the stunning oak of the interior, with tiny gold cherub statues adorning the crowning. A grand staircase wove around the center acting making it easier to gain access to the books. Soft, downey filled sofa chairs sat in the corner with candelabras as far as the eye could see.

Belle, didn't know where to look first, or even if she was seeing things right, or dreaming.

"Do you like it?" Rumple asked shyly. "It's yours…if you want it."

Belle turned to him, her beaming smile brighter than ever before. Wordlessly she ran over and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

Rumple froze under her embrace, afraid to move, afraid to breathe…yet all too happy to be exactly where he was.

"Do you like it, Belle?" he whispered and she lifted her head up, tears brimming her eyes.

"I asked for a rose," she said, laughing, despite how she had tried to act stern.

Rumple smiled.

"I'll remember that for next time," he chuckled.

She squeezed him tightly then took his hand.

"Come on you," she demanded. "You and I are going to dance."

She tugged him to the center of the room, giving him no room to protest.

The magical music drifted around them.

Belle took his hand and interlaced it with hers then placed his other on her waist and rested her free hand on his shoulder, gently coaxing him into a waltz. They moved gently to the melody. A beautiful, sad melody.

"I don't know this," Belle looked up into his eyes.

"It's an old song, a lullaby I think," Rumple explained. "Back during the first Ogre Wars, there was believed to be a mystical valley known as the Rose Fields. Legend had it that the very first princess this world has ever known went for a walk one day. On her walk a wolf attacked her, she survived but managed to cut her finger on one of the wolf's fangs. She had run away so fast from the wolf that she suddenly found herself in this field of white roses. Along came a wild man who found her lost and scared. He had never seen such a beautiful woman before, and she had never seen such a rugged man. He offered to help her stem the bleeding and picked up one of the white roses to catch the blood…but it wasn't enough, so he used another one, and then another one, until the entire field was turned red. When her finger finally stopped bleeding the two had fallen in love with each other and couldn't leave each other's side. So the wild man took his knife and split his own heart open so they could be together forever. The soil of the rose field was so soaked with the lover's blood that any rose that grew there was stained with it, making the red rose a symbol of undying love."

Belle smiled as he told her the story, continuing to dance.

"It was believed that if Rose Fields had ever existed its soil was now damp with the blood of the warriors who fought in the Ogre Wars. But the lullaby was written long before then, but sung in mourning for the children that died, their blood staining the ground of Rose Fields."

Belle looked down sadly.

"Sing it to me," she said.

"I'm not much of a singer, dearie," Rumple shook his head.

Belle shook hers.

"Sing it to me," she insisted.

Rumple drew in a deep breath.

"All right," he muttered. "_A rose for my lady, haroo, haroo. A rose for my lady, haroo. One for the evening and one for the day, before all the petals have wilted away."_

Rumple continued to sway her to the music.

"_A rose for my lady, haroo, haroo. A rose for my lady, haroo. One for the princess, one for the queen, and one for the lady I see in my dreams."_

Belle rested her head on his shoulder as he continued to sing the somber lullaby.

"_A rose for my lady, haroo, haroo. A rose for my lady, haroo. One for her pillow and one for her grave, to remind me of that one rose that I couldn't save."_

The music softly faded and Rumple stopped dancing, still holding Belle in his arms.

Belle lifted her head up and looked in his eyes.

"Why did you play that for me?" she asked, looking deep into his eyes.

"It's the only song I knew with the word rose in it," he shrugged impishly and giggled.

Belle rolled her eyes slightly but smiled.

"Thank you Rumple…for the story…for everything!" she gestured to the huge library. "This is really mine?"

"Every page," Rumple nodded. "You can come in here whenever you like…as long as you are mindful of your other duties around the castle."

Belle reached up…looking for a moment like she was about to kiss him before turning her head and planting the kiss on to her cheek.

"Thank you," she muttered.

They seemed to stare at each other for the longest time.

"I should…I should clean up…the kitchen..." Belle finally said, awkwardly shuffling towards the doors.

Rumple had lost the capacity for speech.

Belle turned to leave but halted.

"I really enjoyed tonight," she said, her eyes sparkling at him.

Rumple managed some sort of sound.

Belle smirked and then left.

He watched her leave, completely and utterly entranced by her, by the whole evening. He would give up a whole lot to relive it.

He looked up to the gorgeous library. A few days ago it had been nothing but a patch of dirty ground on the corner of his estate, with a bit of magic he had created something worthy of his beautiful caretaker, each detail thought of meticulously.

Rumple looked down, he still held the key in his hand. He'd meant to give it to her…it was meant for her.

He clutched the key tightly. He'd give it to her later.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The sun trickled in through the drapes of the bedroom, leaking little streams of sunshine on to his face, warming his cheeks and coaxing his eyes to slowly drift open. This morning was different than any other morning.

Most mornings, in the twenty-eight years he could remember being in this pointless town, he woke up to a pain in his leg and a profound sense of emptiness. He could remember getting up and groaning, stretching his sore leg out, picking up his cane and trudging to the bathroom, each day feeling like someone or something was missing.

Then she came, and time caught up with him, and clarity, so much crystal clear clarity about everything. He was back on track, his old self and his plans working out just like he'd hoped it would. He was Rumplestiltskin. The Dark One. His foresight hadn't returned and he suspected it wouldn't but it was ok, he didn't need it anymore, he was this close to being reunited with his son he could feel the hair on Bae's scalp, see his bright smile, hear his voice calling for him.

But he still woke up, empty, except now he knew why. Now he woke up with an ache in his chest, that rose him from his slumber and yearned him to stretch, to alleviate the numbness. Walking helped, the pain in his leg giving way to feeling, any sort of sensation aside from the emptiness.

He missed her, every god forsaken moment he missed her, he yearned for her. All those twenty-eight years when he sat in the silence of his large house and wondered why it felt so lonely, every morning that he woke up, looked at the empty side of the large queen and wondered why he kept expecting to see a face there, and staring at that cup, wondering why it was the only comfort he seemed to be able to find in this lonely world of his. He never questioned, nor sought to change it, it was just his life.

Then, he heard the tinkle of those bells above his door, he should've known that it was more than just any other customer. The footsteps were so faint they might've been an angels. Chills crinkled up his spine, there was a change in the room, a new scent, a new warm, familiar scent.

Brown eyes met blue eyes, and in a flash that emptiness was full again. There she was, looking for him. His ghost made flesh.

He didn't care that she didn't know who he was, she was everything he ever needed and through some grace she was returned to him.

This morning was different, the sunshine was brighter, warmer. The ache wasn't there, his leg wasn't even complaining this morning.

Rumplestiltskin opened his eyes fully and looked to the body lying next to him, head resting on his shoulder, pale and beautiful fingers resting over his heart. The smell of fresh soap from her hair wafted up into his nose.

He smiled, nuzzling the top of her head with his nose.

This was all he ever needed.

She was wearing a pair of his pajamas, it was too big for her which made her look all the more adorable. Her hair was tussled but soft, and smelt like her as he kissed the top of her head gently. He didn't want to stir her, he didn't want her to wake just yet. He just wanted to revel in this moment.

This was what had been missing.

He closed his eyes, breathing in the warm air of this morning, he never wanted to forget this morning.

The night of their reunion was simple. They had talked, well, she had. He had chosen words carefully, only telling her what the wretched queen had told him all those years ago. He kissed her, a lot, he couldn't help it. Her hands and fingers, her cheeks, her lips. So many dreams, so many yearnings. He kissed her long into the night to make up for twenty-eight years of not kissing her. She had showered and he had brought her fresh towels and a pair of his pajamas, showing her the room he had kept ready for her. There wasn't any pressure to do anything, frankly it was too soon, for both of them.

He let her dress in the silk jammies then made her hot tea, she curled beside him on the couch. They didn't say much at that point, just reveling in being with each other again.

When she could barely keep her eyes open he led her back up the stairs and kissed her one last time at the threshold of her bedroom, promising her if she needed anything he was just down the hall. About twenty minutes later he heard a small knock at his door and she came in.

"Can I stay here tonight? I can't sleep in that room...not all alone," her cheeks were pink and he didn't have the heart to say no to her, never again.

He through back the covers and she crawled in, wrapping her arms around his waist.

They had so much to make up for but they would, in time, he would be the man she deserved.

"I love you," he whispered just as she drifted off.

How long had he waited to say that to her? How long had he thought those words over and over till they had become to sound more like a curse than a blessing. Endless tears spilt into the bowl of a chipped cup because of the utterings of those words to an empty room.

The doors and windows to her library were boarded up, her room locked, the kitchen a forbidden hallow, and the hall his fortress of solitude. He sat in one chair staring at the empty chair and empty table, cradling that cup in his claws, trying to forget, but ultimately dreaming.

Dreaming of this.

He sighed, feeling more content in this moment than he has in many, many years.

She let out a little murmur against his chest.

He tensed slightly, not wanting to disturb her, but soon relaxed when she did little more than nuzzle her face closer to him and return to her dreaming.

He could stay like this forever. He didn't want the spell to be broken. If she awoke it would be back to being difficult. He'd have to choose his words, smile earnestly, kiss her when permitted, and keep his promises through clenched teeth while also trying to deny his urges to touch and caress and kiss every single inch of her all the time. No, this was better. She was just here, and that was all he needed. Life could catch up to them later, right now, this time, it was theirs.

Without noticing it, Belle had cracked a sleepy eye open to look at him. She didn't say anything, nor did she even try to alert him to her presence. He was beautiful. Without the gold-green skin she was used to he was actually quite handsome, though that was not why she loved him. In the warmth of the sunlight he looked at peace, a contentness that she had never seen in him before. In the Dark Castle, he was always guarded, keeping her at arms length, mostly out of fear. Maybe it was the voice but he never seemed truly at ease, he always had an air of alertness behind him, like a woodland creature listening for any odd sounds to ward off predators.

Even when He was sitting at his spinning wheel, as though quiet and off in his own little world he seemed to always have an ear open.

Now, for the first time, he was at rest. It warmed her that she could calm the heart of the beast, even if it was only for a mere few hours.

Rumple suddenly looked down and met her gaze. She expected him to shove her away or tense but he just looked at her, as if he wasn't quite sure if she was real or not, perhaps she wasn't, this could very well be her dream back in Regina's dungeon.

"Hello," he said huskily, his throat not quite awake.

"Morning," she mumbled back, not making any move to leave her current position.

"I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No, I was just watching you," she smiled sleepily.

"Watching me?" he chuckled slightly.

"Yes, I haven't quite got used to your skin...being like this, and with the sun you...you looked very handsome," she tried to explain it but there were no perfect words. Seeing him like this was...beautiful.

"I'm glad I hold up to your standards," he teased lightly.

"My standards are you," she said earnestly, shifting slightly to release her trapped arm and using it to wipe the sleep out of her eyes. "What time is it?"

"Doesn't matter," he shook his head, pulling her close to him. "Today is just going to be us."

"Really?" Belle tried not to look skeptical.

"Really, I'm not going to my shop, not leaving this house, we won't even leave this bed if that's what you want."

"Well, we might have to eat," Belle smiled.

"I will fetch you whatever you desire," Rumplestiltskin said that with an air of his old self shining through. "Without magic," he clarified.

"So if I wanted to read a book..."

"I will bring you a stack of them," he said confidently.

"And some tea?"

"Cream and a lemon wedge, coming right up," he moved to pull the covers back but she tugged him back down to her.

"Not just yet," she teased.

"Alright," he grinned and snuggled back around her, his arm coming around her waist.

"I get you for the whole day?" she clarified.

"Yes," Rumple smiled. "For many days if you want me, but this day specifically."

Belle rolled her eyes.

"What about breakfast?"

"What does mylady wish?"

"You? Cook?" Belles scoffed.

"I've picked up some new tricks these past twenty-eight years," Rumple said indignantly. "I can crack an egg or two and fry bacon without burning it, have no fear about that."

Belle laughed softly.

"Well, it's a good thing I stayed then," she teased. Rumple felt his heart strain a little, though she meant it light-heartedly.

"Yes, it is," he sighed. He almost turned her away again after all that, she could've walked out and never loved him again, it was by her grace that she was here now and he wanted to be better for her. "Stay here, I'll be right back," he smiled, forgetting, just for this moment that he didn't deserve her and instead choosing to cherish this time with her.

"Oh don't make me stay alone in bed," Belle whined, "I've spent too much time alone as it is, I'd rather help."

Rumple smirked and leaned down to kiss her.

"Fine, but I'm going to cook, you'll just have to watch," he snickered slightly at her frown then pressed a kiss into her wrinkled brow ridge. "Here," he leant down to grab his slippers from beneath the bed and gently, despite his discomfort, slid them on to her feet.

Belle giggled.

"Am I Cinderella now?" she teased.

"We'll see at midnight," he teased back, then pressed another kiss to her knee. "You're my princess, I don't need any other."

Belle smiled and softly carded her hands through his hair, the gesture stilled him.

"You waited for me, didn't you?" her tone could've broke him if he'd let it.

"I thought you were dead, but I always hoped - dreamed you'd come back to me," he met her gaze.

"But there was no one else, right? You didn't -"

"After you there was no one, there was only you, you ruined me for anyone else," he smiled at her. "I didn't deserve anyone after you."

Belle leaned down and kissed him thoroughly. Never again would he reject her lips or her love. She could reject his but he would never say no to her again.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Belle pulled away from him.

"Breakfast?" she queried.

"Breakfast," he nodded, pulling himself to standing then holding his hands out to her. "I make a wicked hash if you're interested."

"What's a hash?" Belle asked excitedly following him out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

Rumplestiltskin had to laugh at that.

_**~~~~FTL, The Dark Castle~~~~**_

It had been three months since she'd gone.

Despite Regina's advice he refused to take on another maid, he didn't want one. He wanted her.

The Dark Castle looked...miserable, truly and utterly miserable and desolate. Reflecting the way her felt inside he supposed. He'd lost all sense of home and comfort when Belle had left, and then just hollow when he'd learned she never would. He found himself running to anyone who would call him, just for a few measly hours of distraction, and he refused to sleep, there was no worse torment then the yearning images of the girl he'd loved, the pure beauty who had loved him beyond the monster. He even refused to close his eyes, in case she was there, waiting to haunt him.

He remembered when Regina had first told him of her fate, at first he didn't, he couldn't believe her, so he used his gift of sight to look for her, anything he could do to seek her out in the future, trying to focus on her and her alone. There had to be something. True there was not much control in his gift, otherwise he would know too much, but he'd been able to practice enough to see glimpses of an individuals future upon request. He could see Snow White and her Prince resolving their issues, Regina coming to him for help, the toy maker and his puppet son in a whale, he could even sense that his boy, his own son was alive and that gave him all the hope in the world. But when he tried to focus on Belle she was...gone, blank, empty...dead.

He'd spent days, sitting in his chair, trying to call the sight to do his bidding and each time he came up with nothing. He screamed and clawed, and broke, and finally collapsed to his knees tearing his heart out, at least to pull the memories out of it so that it wouldn't hurt anymore. Finally, staring into his own heart he could see. The heart itself was inky black, had been for years.

_An empty heart and a chipped cup. _Never had a truer prophecy been spoken. With that thought though, he saw a red pinprick spot the center of his heart, swelling gradually. It was her, not literally but that was what she had done for him. Fresh, hot tears spilt down his eyes, warm tears, loving tears. She was going to help him find his son, that's why he chose her to be his maid, he had no idea how, that's all the sight had given him, and now he understood, he had blackened and hardened his heart so much that he would've never been able to get Bae back even when he did find him, but now he could, there was goodness, there was love back in his heart because of her. And he wept, and with each tear the red spot grew bigger and bigger.

And there he was now, holding his heart in one hand and his chipped cup in the other. He never took it out for long but sometimes he liked to look at it, pretend she was holding it. Her smile bright and sparkling.

The dark castle was dreary looking, like it had been before Belle was here except now it was more than just unkempt and neglected, now it was missing a part of itself. Cobwebs were overgrown and speckled with dust, not even the spiders liked to live here, maybe they could sense the loss as well. There was a sheen of dust on everything except for the pedestal he kept his cup on, his spinning wheel, and the chair he was currently sitting in. The hallways echoed with the memory of her laughter, and other rooms he couldn't bear to enter were nailed shut, their thresholds never to be crossed again. Her room in the dungeon had been completely transformed with gold and blue fabric. He couldn't live with that cold room any more, knowing she suffered in there. Now it was a nook, a warm little nook with sunshine streaming in and comfortable chairs and white marble, a room she would've loved to have sat in but he refuses, he keeps it locked away with a spell so that it will never look less inviting, in case Belle should ever come back and need a place to read. He knew it was impossible but the thought warmed him. Just that small flicker of hope kept him going.

He fell into a trance staring at his glowing heart, there was still too much black in it, but he hoped there was enough love to start, to show Bae that his papa was still there under all the magic.

Every time he thought of Belle or Bae his red center started to pulse and edge out slowly, pushing to expand. He liked watching his heart as he filled it with love and images of being with the ones he loved. It didn't last but he liked making his heart glow like fire in his hand. But he would put it back in and it would still hurt, everything would hurt. There was much grief still left in there, more than just Belle or Bae, but Cora and Milah too. Guilt and sorrow; pain and anguish. He could still feel that. There were times he wanted to rip it out completely and never put it back in but he had to, this was his price.

Rumplestiltskin looked down at his chest and then back at his heart.

Maybe just for a while he could leave it out, not have to feel for awhile.

He set his cup down and put his heart inside it then stepped away from it.

Yes, maybe just for today he wouldn't have to hurt. That would be nice, he thought. Maybe go have a walk around the grounds of his estate, maybe read a book, do something he hasn't done in a long while. Yes, he thought with a giggle, that would be great. He could put it back in right before he went off to make a deal, it would hurt less if he was distracted.

He walked away from it, leaving his heart in his chipped cup sitting exposed on the mahogany table. The red glowing started to fade, shrinking back into a small circle in the center. It made a soft thum-thump that resonated off the china, making it louder than it normally was, but even then it was fading.

In a flash Rumplestiltskin was back, panting heavily and desperately. He picked up his heart and without a moment of hesitation thrust it back into his chest, collapsing to the floor as it surged a wave of grief and longing through him. Rumple couldn't stop the ragged sob that wracked his entire being.

It was painful, but it was her, the pain was his Belle, and he couldn't live without her, and for the first time since she'd left he didn't feel so alone.


End file.
